


Redwall Weekly Prompt Collection

by LadyoftheShield



Category: Redwall Series - Brian Jacques
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Drabbles, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Legend of Luke, Minor Character Death, Redwall - Freeform, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheShield/pseuds/LadyoftheShield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short fics written for the #RedwallWeekly tag on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lavish

**Author's Note:**

> Lavish- profuse; to pamper or shower with affection  
> Prompt: A mousemaid at the Abbey fancies Martin

As she folded the pie in on itself, she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

Martin laughed at something Gonff had said, his gentle prod almost bowling the thief over. In the light of the setting sun, the warrior’s eyes shone a warm brown. Blushing, she ducked her head. The greatest mouse ever needed an offering worthy of his attention, she thought as she shaped the crust. Once flounces on the crust were curved to her liking, she placed the pie to bake.

Minutes passed. As it cooked, she quickly cleaned the dark brown batter from her paws and patted down her pinafore. She hadn’t bathed today, and there were some leaves stuck in her fur that she couldn’t quite reach, but it should be enough.

Glancing back at the pie, she poked it with a stick to check the consistency.

Perfect.

And so was he, she thought, glancing over at him. He was so tall, and so strong. Straightening, she lifted her pie and darted over to Redwall’s warrior.

“Martin! I baked a pie for you!” she said, holding it up as high as she could reach.

His smile was reward enough for her as he bent over to receive her offering. “Thank you, Ivy. My! This pie looks scrumptious!”

Glowing at the praise, she played with the corners of her apron.

“Ivy! There you are, you rascal! Look at you, you’ve got mud all over your pinafore!” Before Ivy could protest, Bella swooped down and scooped up the wayward Dibbun. “Bathtime for you, missy!”

“Awww,” she whined, protesting purely on principle, but then Martin winked at her. Marginally, she relaxed into Bella’s shoulders and basked in his smile


	2. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Matthias and Cornflower meeting for the first time as dibbuns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Listen to what I say, Matthias. You have been like a son to me, ever since you first came to our gates as an orphaned woodland mouse, begging to be taken in.” - Abbot Mortimer.  
> I personally interpret this as Matthias being young, but not a dibbun when he made it to Redwall’s gates so I went a bit fluid on the prompt. Written with Sis Puella Magica!

Autumn’s chill wind raked through his fur and Matthias pulled his threadbare coat tighter around him. The setting sun’s red light shone through the leaves of Mossflower Wood. Past trailing briars and the dim, wide windows of a small cottage, he walked. The door hung open, and a few shards of window glass sparkled in the road. He picked around them carefully, setting his bare footpaws onto dry earth.

Following the plume of smoke in the distance, Matthias walked, feeling his toes and the tips of his ears grow numb. Overhead, the red sky clouded over, casting a pale pallor on the vivacious color of the forest.

The smell of freshly baked bread swirled through the air Matthias trod on, refusing to think about his empty stomach as he drew closer to the source of the smoke.

When he came upon the house, he paused. The soft light of a fire spilled onto the road before him. Shadows danced on the windows as laughter and conversation reached his numb ears.

But no yellow ribbon hung from the doorknob. Swallowing nervously, he banged on the door. “H-hello?”

Everything ceased. On the other side of the door, something scurried and he saw the silhouette of a face plaster itself against the window. “It’s Lemuel’s son,” he heard a male voice say before indistinct whispers swelled. His stomach rumbled, and his shoulders bowed under the memory of his father.

“Please,” he said, “I just- I just need a place to stay for the night.”

“I’m sorry. That’s not going to happen,” a female voice said through the door- not unkindly, but firm as a mountain in the wind.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he said, scratching at the solid oaken door, “I’ll work for food- I’m a hard worker-”

“Priscilla, the poor thing’s hungry,” a male voice said quietly, “I don’t think anyone’s taken care of him since his parents died of the Blindness.”

Pause. Stomach clenching, Matthias waited.

“He could be a carrier, Daniel. So many have died already- do you want to add our children to that list?”

“Please-” he began, only to be cut off.

“If you go west up the path, you’ll hit the main road. Follow that north, and you’ll get to Redwall in about half a day.”

“But-”

“Scram!” a younger voice yelled. The door shook. Slowly, Matthias backed away from the door, tears pricking in his eyes.

“Hey.”

Jumping with a squeak at the low whisper, he turned. A young mousemaid peered around the corner of the house. The blue flowers on her scarf stood out in the grey, dreary atmosphere. “It’s not much,” she said thrusting a small bundle at him. “But it’s all we can spare.” The smell of stale bread hit his nose like a thunderclap, and he untangled the food from the blanket. The half loaf within was gone in the crack of a badgermum’s knuckle. The tears already built in his eyes spilled over as he started on the raw carrot.

“Keep the blanket,” she said in a low whisper. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Matthias said, thunder underscoring his voice. Reaching out, he clasped her hand, “Thank you-”

“Cornflower!” A voice from inside called.

“I have to go,” she said, backing away. Their eyes met one last time, then she vanished around the corner of the house. For a moment, he stood, grasping the blanket. Then, wrapping it around his shoulders, he started down the road. Perhaps it he were lucky, he could find a hollow log before it rained.


	3. Decretum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #3: The events surrounding the naming of the Matthias and Methuselah bells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I’m not too comfortable making OCs for oneshots, I lifted Barnaby from the Redwall-inspired video game Armello, which is fantastic and I highly recommend it if you like strategy and board games.

“It’s impossible,” Barnaby said, turning to Abbot Alf.

Mordalfus raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Your clan is well known for their skill with metal work,” he said, folding his paws into his habit.

“The bell is older than my grandmother’s whiskers,” the young rabbit replied, “And it was made by a master who specialized in making bells. Going from what we know of Joseph’s work, this was the largest of the bells he made, and the techniques he used have long been lost to time. Recasting a bell this size, let alone replicating it, would be as feasible as reweaving your tapestry.”

“Can the metal be cast into two smaller bells?” Constance asked.

“…It can certainly be done,” Barnaby said after a pause, “but, as good as I am, I’m no Joseph the Bellmaker. Just remember that, and we should be alright. Are you planning on naming them?”

Everyone in the room paused.

“Mortimer and Methuselah?” Matthias suggested.

Constance was shaking her head before the second syllable passed Matthias’ lips. “Mortimer wouldn’t have liked that. He told me once he needed no more than a simple tombstone to remember him, no need for a dish or a song. He needs no remembrance save our memories of him and the example he set for us all.”

“I like the idea of Matthias and Martin,” John Churchmouse suggested, “Both of our Abbey Warriors."

“No,” Matthias said, “I agree with Father Mortimer here. Besides, I’m still alive.”

“We owe our victory to you,” Abbot Alf pointed out.

Matthias looked over the faces smiling at him. When he started out to find the sword of Martin, becoming the hope of Redwall’s future had never crossed his mind. It was Redwall’s present he had been concerned about. But now he embodied the future of the Abbey itself.

“Only if the other bell is named after Methuselah,” he said at last.


	4. Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #4: Redwall in a different setting/time period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an idea I've had for a while, in its most basic form, hence the presence of OC’s, and I know it's weird but bear with me. This is dedicated to Brian, and to anyone who's ever been inspired to create because of Redwall- especially those who create stories in a similar vein. You know who you are. I guess you could call this my tribute to Redwall and to Brian- nearly five years late, but it’s here at last.

"I don't see the need for the environmental suits," Troy said stiffly, pulling at the heavy white cloth with his gloved paw.

"Protocol," Kendra returned as she walked ahead, reading her environment analyzer, "The atmosphere is mostly oxygen but we still have to be cautious. There's far more oxygen than we're used to dealing with- stop it, Troy."

"I wasn't doing anything," the rabbit lied, dropping his hand.

Kendra snorted. "You're never not doing nothing," she began, but was cut off by a shout from the third member of their party.

"You guys have to see this!" the rat shouted.

"What, Flapjack?" Kendra asked as she came up beside her leader.

Kendra wasn't sure what she expected to see. The debris field from the dimensional rift stretched for miles. And yet, red-stone spires of a building long buried jutted from the the mound of earth and sand and stone.

Even Troy calmed at the sight. "When this world turned inside out-"

"-this was the heart of it," Kendra finished, making notes in her, "The center of it all. I knew it."

"But- they didn't have the technology to turn this world the way it did," Flapjack said, turning his intelligent black eyes onto Kendra, "All the sites we've uncovered indicates that the local cultures only had invented up to the longbow and simple siege weaponry, and there was no trade with the peoples across the sea."

"Well, there's only one way to find out the truth," Kendra said as she started forward.

"Hold it," Troy said, reaching out to grab the back of the fox's suit, "There's no way that's stable. If something goes wrong, the Quinlan isn't outfitted for a rescue. It could be days before any help comes."

"Even if we didn't have the technology to understand it at the time," Kendra said, folding her arms, "This world's end affected so many others. If we leave and get proper permits and a crew, we might not even be the ones assigned to investigate. None of us expected anything like this-"

"In and out," Flapjack said, cutting her off. "Look, I'm curious too, but frankly it's my tail on the chopping block if something goes wrong."

Cautiously, they approached the mound. Layers of rock and gaps of earth spread as far as they eye could see, but they were focused on the red stone. They spread out and walked up the rubble cautiously, approaching the spires.

"...Hey, Flapjack," Troy said, addressing the rat. "There's a way in here."

"Gaps in the rubble are to be expected," Flapjack said, "it's settled over time, and-"

"No, I mean there's a path.

All three of them crowded around the fox. Sure enough, ancient footprints had built up in the silt and dust of the rubble.

"...impossible," Troy breathed, "this- this implies survivors."

"I'm going in," Flapjack said, "Troy, you up? No question about Kendra"

"Definitely," the rabbit said, after a brief pause, "I'll take point. I'm the most comfortable below ground. I want Kendra in the back- she's the smallest, so if things hit the fan she can get out quickly and get to the ship."

The other three walked down in single file. Down, down the tunnel snaked until they all felt a breeze touch their whiskers. Troy's headlamp cut wide swaths in the darkness, but even the bright light could not reveal the extent of the great hall. Pillars carved from the rubble extended high over head, sprouting from the ceiling almost naturally. Carved with names and faces unfamiliar to all of them, the thick pillars seemed to bear the weight of the world.

"Not only were there survivors, but- they did all this work. For what purpose?" Flapjack asked.

"It seems to be a memorial of some sort- perhaps those who perished here? This was clearly a castle of some sort." Pausing before one of the pillars, Troy found himself staring into the face of a mouse in the carving. Had he died quickly, crushed under the weight of an entire world? Or had he suffocated slowly-

"Troy!" Flapjack's voice rang out sharply, and he pulled his paw back, stumbling back from the pillar. The earth rumbled, and with a shout the rabbit plummeted out of sight.

Kendra ran to the edge and peered down, calling her friend's name. Troy hadn't fallen far, and he was moving, but before she could think about it more, she felt the ground begin to crumble under her feet. 

Her captain's face flashed in her head- "Went in without gear or backup, what were you thinking?" - only to be replaced with the wrinkled, lined face of a mouse. "Move back," he ordered, and his voice was so warm and yet commanding that she instantly obeyed.

The vision passed. Blinking, she shook her head to clear her mind, and stood once more in the black underdark. "I'm OK," Troy called up, and she heard more earth shift. "I just- think I twisted something."

"Oh dear!"

Kendra and Flapjack turned at the new voice. A bespectacled hedgehog emerged from the darkness, her eyes almost covered with cataracts. "I didn't believe him when he said I'd have visitors today," the hedgehog fretted, darting over to the edge of the hole, "My apologies."

"What's going on up there?" Troy asked.

Uncoiling a rope from her shoulder, the hedgehog tossed it down. "grab on, laddie buck!"

"I- uh. I can't climb with my leg-!" Troy began, but the hedgehog began hauling the line up. Even with the burly rabbit hanging on it, it moved through her paws like water.

"My name is Epona," the hedgehog said, not even have broken a sweat, "And I am the Keeper of Redwall Abbey."

"Redwall Abbey?" Troy said, breaking the silence, still leaning on her gingerly as he tried o abvoid putting weight on her spines, "But- Redwall is just a children's story, just like the legends of Elysium, or the Wyld’s existence."

Epona's eyebrows crawled up her head. "Well then, you young'uns are in dire need of some education. Come with me."

And without a backward glance, she marched into the darkness, dragging Troy with her.

Flapjack and Kendra shared a look. "We can't leave him," Flapjack said, and started after them, following the light from Troy's headlamp.

As they went, Kendra photographed everything of interest. The pillars, and writing on them, the footprints on the ground- until they came to a heavy wooden door. Sodden with mildew and chased with iron, Epona opened it with ease. Inside was another expanse, but te light from their headlamps revealed worked red stone. Books and scrolls piled every surface as far as the light from their headlamps could reach.

"...So what happened here?" Troy asked as she pulled the heavy boot off his footpaw and began to bind his ankle. She still used primitive techniques based around herbs and linen, Kendra noticed.

Epona paused. "That's quite a question," she said. "It's clear you're familiar with the name of Redwall, even if the Abbey- well. We are no longer what we once were."

"Not a thriving community?"

"None of us know what happened, exactly. Even the books and first hand accounts written when it happened can't really shed much light on the subject. It certainly wasn't caused by them. Only Martin knows what happened, and- well. He was cryptic on the matter."

They waited. Epona tied off the bandage.

"According to Recorder Fottlink, It was a normal day at the Abbey and mounds of rock and sand came as the woods and chunks of their red walls tore away. Martin himself was silent and distant for a long time, almost as if in mourning. The only words he would give for many years were- here, let me find it.”

Epona dug through her scrolls, finally locating a well-worn one by her candle. "The Teller has passed, and the loom of dreams has broken. It is left to others to finish what was started, but Redwall will never bloom again."

An eerie silence fell over the room.

Epona shrugged. "That's how it's recorded, at least. With those words, the Order of Redwall stayed to finish their memorial, and disbanded. Some stayed to watch the ruins. Others left to go north to keep the Order's way of life intact- I hear that Sunsgrove Abbey is doing quite well in the Northlands, though I've never been there myself."

"...and all this history is recorded in these scrolls?" Flapjack asked.

"A great deal. There's more in Redwall's library, which survived the disaster, but even I haven't read every scroll. Several of them are written in Red Runes, which are difficult to decipher."

"It's time we got back to our ship," Flapjack said, glancign at his chronometer, "We have enough explaining to do with his injury."

Standing, Epona pressed a pack of herbs into Troy's paws. "Change the dressing every day." Scooping an arm around him, Kendra nodded at the hedgehog. "Thank you, we have it from here. Flapjack, we should probably leave now if that's the case."

They whispered as they walked, Epona following in silence.

"This is incredible," Troy whispered as they walked. "We're standing in Redwall Abbey."

"We have the word of a kook and dusty scrolls," Kendra said, "I wouldn't get excited."

"Everything fits," he argued, "What else can it be but-"

"We can argue about this after we have more evidence," Flapjack said, "For now, we should focus on getting your tail back on that ship." They stepped back into the grey daylight. Epona lingered in the doorway, watching them leave.

"Please come back and visit any time," Epona said, "Even if Redwall itself no longer exists- I would like to extend hospitality, in the spirit by which it lives on."

"We will certainly return," Flapjack promised with a nod of his head, "but we have others waiting for us."

As they went over the rise, Kendra looked back, and blinked.

In the heavy, misty dust, she thought she saw an armoured mouse standing behind Epona, watching them. Then she blinked, and he was gone. Simply her imagination, she said to herself, as she turned to follow her companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Quinlan is a deliberate reference to Beyond the Western Deep. (I really hope no one's sick of my plugging it yet because I'm not likely to stop any time soon) The protagonist's name came from a ship, so I reused it as such. And I was originally trying to hint at Noonvale being the location of the new Abbey, but Sunsgrove really, really works- the basic thought process being- "Noon... Sun! Sun Vale- Sun Valley-... OK, yeah, let's just do Sunsgrove." It was midnight don’t judge. There’s references to other Redwall-inspired/influenced works scattered throughout, and I’ll probably keep adding them over time.


End file.
